


The Exchange

by AshenArrow



Series: Thin Ice [5]
Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hockey, M/M, NHL All-Star Game, NHL All-Star Weekend, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secret Identity, Women in the NHL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21516220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenArrow/pseuds/AshenArrow
Summary: Callie learns something interesting about Sid and offers something interesting about herself in return.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Sidney Crosby/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Thin Ice [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545589
Kudos: 11





	The Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously a work of fiction :)

January 2020 / @ St. Louis All-Star Game

“Still can’t believe I’m here,” I say.

“Come on, Cal,” Jace says from the other end of the line. “You’re playing like your ass is on fire. There would’ve been riots in the streets if you weren’t invited.”

I roll my eyes, laying back on the bed.

“You should fly out here and hang with me,” I say for probably the hundredth time in the last few days.

“We already talked about this, Cal,” he says gently. “We agreed I’d go if Sid wasn’t better by then, but he is. You should go have fun, bébé. Get a goal for me, drink a beer, loosen up, you know?”

I bristle slightly.

“I can’t just _loosen up_ ,” I snap. “ _He’s_ fucking here prowling the halls for all I know.”

“And that’s why you talked to Sid about accepting his invite this year,” Jace says patiently. “I talked to him, too, last time I visited. He knows not to let you disappear off the face of the earth.”

“So now I have a babysitter,” I snark, rolling onto my stomach and plucking at the comforter below me.

“He’s just looking out for you, Callie,” Jace says.

“He shouldn’t even be here,” I mumble. “He’s just barely recovered from the core surgery.”

“Cal. He’s already back in the lineup. He’s _been_ back in the lineup, bébé.”

“Still doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a weekend off,” I grumble back.

“He cares about you, Cal. So do I. Your whole team does. I know accepting that is hard for you, but I promise, they’d help you hide a body if they had to.” I smile a little at that, but it doesn’t get rid of the guilty pit in my stomach.

I’m not rooming with Sidney. Tyler Seguin somehow got a hold of my cellphone number about a week ago just to suggest that we share a room this weekend, calling us “Boston reject buddies.” Sid assured me he’s a good guy and thinks it’s a good idea, so I agreed. I shouldn’t be scared of something so normal and common.

There’s a sudden thump against my hotel room door, some mild cursing, and then Tyler Seguin is in my room. Our room. Whatever. He grins at me as he tosses his bag to the floor and turns to shut the door.

“What’s up, mini-me?” he greets.

I snort, rolling my eyes.

“Hungry,” I reply.

He lets out a loud laugh, picking up his bag and placing it on the unoccupied bed.

“Was surprised to find out Sid said yes this year,” he remarks, throwing himself onto his bed and pulling out his phone. “Who got him to do that?”

“I did,” I reply.

“Yeah? How’d you manage that?”

“I asked.”

Tyler looks over, eyes narrowed.

“You asked,” he parrots. I nod, shrugging my shoulders.

“He went last year,” I add when Tyler still looks suspicious.

_/ * \\_

The skills competition is actually a lot of fun. Volkov is here along with Pasta, but he’s luckily not on my team thanks to us being in different divisions now. He also stay away for the whole thing.

Pasta does no such thing. He takes a knee right next to me in the beginning and chats my ear off. We even take a picture together when a photographer asks.

The Metro division is captained by Giroux this year. I’m not even bothered; I’ve got nothing wrong with the guy. It was decided (without my permission) that I’ll be competing in the fastest skater part of the competition. I splutter and protest when I’m told because Connor McDavid is here and he’s going to destroy me, but I suppose it could be worse. I could be stuck with the panic filled puck handling fiasco they’re putting Jack Hughes through.

I’m super nervous when I’m finally the next person in line. Everyone has been insisting that I’m fast each time I complain this isn’t the skill I should be competing in, but I still don’t expect much.

I tie with Connor. The crowd goes insane. Sidney shoves me, honking that ridiculous laugh of his as I grin as well, face burning with a blush at all of the sudden attention.

As per the rules, him and I both take another lap. He hits 13.452 seconds, and I come in at a pretty close 13.460. He bumps my fist as I’m skating back to the herd of hockey players looking on.

“Almost, huh?” he says.

“Just you wait, McDavid,” I joke back.

Patrick Kane wins the puck handling competition. Hughes plops himself next to me after his truly humorous attempt, nudging me with his shoulder.

“Jace is sooo bitter he didn’t get to come,” he says. I snort.

“Oh, I know. He’s been bitching in my ear for a while,” I reply, leaving out the part that I want him here, too.

“He should be damn grateful,” Jack continues, shaking his head and leaning onto his stick. “That was so embarrassing.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I try, but it isn’t very convincing.

Seguin insists I go out with a bunch of the other guys after the skill competition is over. I end up sandwiched between him and Kane with a beer I have to pretend I’m actually enjoying. Sidney sits with a few of the older guys and mysteriously disappears around the time I’m halfway through my second beer.

I decide to check in on Sid when a bunch of us head back to our hotel. It’s not too late, so I’m a little surprised when it takes him a while to get to the door. I’m beginning to wonder if he even came back to the hotel at all when the door finally opens.

He answers the door shirtless, flushed blotchily from face to neck, and with an absolute mess of hair.

“Oh, holy shit,” I say, realizing what I just interrupted.

“Is everything okay?” Sid asks like the ever-responsible captain he is.

“Yeah, you left early, I thought maybe something was wrong, but that is _clearly_ not the case,” I ramble, averting my eyes to the floor. There’s a pair of clearly men’s sized Vans there that appear to have been kicked off haphazardly, which is weird because Sid wouldn’t be caught dead in those and he’s rooming alone so— “Holy shit, wow, okay. You’re definitely all good. I’m gonna go, have a good night,” I say, turning to disappear down the hall before he can reply.

So Sid’s gay…or bi…or, I don’t know, at the very least not entirely straight. It’s surprising, but definitely not a big deal.

“So, what’s the verdict? Dying or not?” Seguin asks when I get back to our room.

“Very much alive,” I reply, doing my best not to think about how Sid is currently hooking up with some St. Louis local a floor away right now.

_/ * \\_

Sid corners me when we’re getting ready to play the Atlantic division the next night. He basically herd me into an empty office without giving me much say.

“About last night,” he begins. I hold up my hands.

“Literally my fault, man. Get that dick, or whatever,” I say, laughing lightly.

“This is serious, Chris,” he says tightly. “Not a lot of people and I wanna keep it that way.”

I study him for a second, trying to figure out what I can do to make this better for him.

“Okay,” I say after I’ve decided. “How bout I trade you a secret of mine and then we’re even?”

He crosses his arms, his expression shifting to a wariness he rarely directs my way these days.

“I’m a girl, Sid. My real name is Callie. I wanted to play NHL hockey, so I lied,” I blurt out.

His arms uncross and fall limp to his sides. His mouth even drops a little bit.

“What? No you’re not,” he says.

“I mean, I’d prefer not to flash you my tits, but—” I pause, hiking up my Pens t-shirt just enough to expose the wrapping around my upper chest.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Sid says quickly, gesturing for me to stop. I drop my shirt back down. “Christ, this is crazy.”

“Now we both have one of each other’s secrets. That’s the best insurance policy you’ll ever be able to get,” I say, patting him on the shoulder. “Can I go gear up, now?”

He nods dumbly. We head back to the locker room and get on with our lives.

Playing with guys on different teams is pretty cool. Hughes and I combine for an absolutely filthy goal on Lundqvist. Sidney pats me on the head when I get back to the bench, so I guess we’re thankfully back to normal now.

We beat the Atlantic and end up beating the Pacific by two, as well. I even get a goal in on Fleury, so I would say that this weekend has been an absolute success.

Sid and I take a flight back to Pittsburgh together. Nothing has really changed between us which is a huge relief. If anything, I’m actually able to relax more around him now. There isn’t that huge secret hanging over my anymore, and it’s so freeing.


End file.
